Goodbeast
by Thomas the Traveler
Summary: From the journal of Gonff II. The story of Rat Singer and his crew of 'goodbeasts', as they sail the sea, searching for the Mosquitoes corsairs and their pirate captain, General Leek, and how their path eventually crosses that of the Redwallers.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The winter sun shone down upon Redwall Abbey, reflecting off the twin bells Matthias and Methuselah – and into the eyes of one Umfry Spikkle, official gatekeeper and temporary bell ringer for the abbey. He mumbled to himself as he shielded his eyes against the hot glare and prepared to ring the bells for breakfast.

_Bong! Bong!_

He needn't have bothered; all the abbey beasts were inside with the exception of him. Not that he could blame them. It was the first day in two weeks that it wasn't snowing, but a chilly breeze was all that was needed to keep the creatures inside. Not even the troublesome Dibbuns had complained when it was announced that everyone was to stay in Cavern Hole unless specifically given permission. That is, not at first.

Umfry shivered as he opened the bell tower door and pulled his cloak tighter about his body. Then he regretted it. He had 'borrowed' the cloak from Brother Torilis, and Brother Torilis did not own hedgehog cloaks. Umfry reached the door of the abbey and removed the now-useless cloak, and couldn't help thinking of what the abbey's herbalist would say. The squirrel was hardly the nicest of creatures at the best of times, and Umfry finally made the decision to avoid him until later.

Entering the abbey, Umfry looked around to make sure that Torilis wasn't anywhere nearby. Thinking that the Great Hall was deserted, he entered quietly and shut the door behind him.

"Bit chilly, is it not?"

Umfry spun around at the sound, and relaxed as he saw whom it was. "Greetings, Samolus." he said.

The old handymouse smiled as he rose from his sitting position and walked over to shake Umfry's paw. "So Umfry," he asked, "who are you hiding from."

The hedgehog started. "Hiding? Wh-who says I'm hiding?"

"Well, when a beast is looking around a room before entering, and them proceeds to enter very quietly, and starts at the slightest noise, I can't help but assume that beast is hiding from someone." Samolus chuckled. "Especially when that beast is Umfry Spikkle."

Umfry chuckled, too, then sighed and said, "I'm hiding from Brother Torilis." "Ah, I see." Samolus replied. "You see," continued Umfry, "I sort of borrowed a cloak from him, only he doesn't know it yet, and now I've damaged it, and when he finds out, . . ." Umfry trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Samolus took the cloak and examined it carefully. "No problem, Umfry." he said, smiling. "I think I can fix this up before Torilis gets back." He sat down near the Great Hall tapestry and took some materials from a satchel he had at his side. "It just so happens that he is out chopping firewood with Bosie, and with how that hare talks I doubt that they'll be back any time soon."

Umfry looked puzzled. "Chopping firewood before breakfast? Couldn't it have waited?"

Samolus winked at him. "Of course it could, but Bosie missed supper last night, and Dubble was afraid that there wouldn't be enough for all the abbey beasts and an extra hungry hare besides. So the Abbess suggested that we send him out for firewood. With any luck he won't get back until breakfast is over."

Umfry still looked perplexed. "And Torilis went with him?" he asked. Samolus sighed. "Yes, that was Dwink's idea."

"Oh." replied Umfry.

Just then a crowd of Dibbuns ran up the stares connecting Great Hall to Cavern Hole, making a beeline for the door, with Sister Violet hot on their heels. "Help!" she cried when she saw the two creatures by the door.

Immediately Umfry ran to the door and bolted it, and then turned round to face the stampede advancing on him. Crossing his arms, the huge hedgehog made an imposing site. "Stop!" he shouted. The Dibbuns quickly ground to a halt. "That's better." he said.

Sister Violet caught up with them, and immediately sat down on the floor, gasping for breath. "Are you alright, Sister Violet?" Samolus asked her from his position.

"Yes, yes." she panted, "I'm just out of breath, that's all. Oh, oh my, how is it that such short legs can run so fast."

Behind her, Skipper Rorgus, his wife Zaran, and Abbess Perrit walked up and looked from one beast to another. Perrit sighed as she caught sight of her own daughter, Mittee, among the runaways. Walking over, she swept up her offspring into her arms and said, "Mittee, what are you doing! You were told to stay in cavern hole!"

All the assembled Dibbuns let out a groan, and Mittee declared, "But Mama, it boa-wing in der!"

"She's right, you know." said a voice from the stairway to the upper level.

Turning around, Perrit saw her husband Dwink and his friend Bisky coming down from the infirmary. Not to far behind them were Bisky's wife Spingo, and daughter Andio, who, at the moment, had her arm in a sling, the result of an accident during harvest time in the orchards earlier that year.

Perrit smiled at them as they walked over. "Very well then, I won't disagree with you, but what are we supposed to do about it, except wait." she asked.

In answer, Dwink turned to Bisky, who in turn went over to Samolus. Sitting down next to him, Bisky asked, "Grandunk, did you find anything else out about Gonff when you looked through that other diary you found a week ago?"

Samolus looked up from his work. "Aye, what's that? Oh, you mean Gonff the Second's journal. Yes indeed, I found out quite a bit." he said, and went back to his knitting.

Bisky was not daunted. "Did you learn of any more adventures that Gonff the First had?" he asked.

"Well, if by adventures you mean did I find a list of times he stole things, then yes I did, but there wasn't really anything quite extraordinary that happened to him after he stole the Doomwyte gems."

Bisky sighed in defeat. "So much for that idea."

"What idea?" asked Spingo.

Bisky sighed again. "Well, I was thinking we could occupy the youngsters with a story or som . . ."

"Oh it's a story you want! Well why didn't you say so?" exclaimed Samolus.

Everyone looked at him with puzzled expressions on their faces. "Well, you said . . ." Bisky started.

"I said I didn't find anything interesting about Gonff the First in his son's diary." explained Samolus. "But that doesn't mean I didn't find anything interesting. Come, come." he said, getting up and motioning for them to follow him.

Skeptically, the others trailed after him as he walked along the length of the tapestry. Finally, he paused at a section not too far from the picture of Martin the Warrior. Pointing at the tapestry, he asked, "Tell me, what do you see?"

Abbess Perrit looked at him quizzically. "Martin the Warrior, of course."

"No, no, no." the aged mouse said, "Not that part, this part, here where I'm standing."

Everyone looked, and saw a picture of a group of woodlanders and vermin . . .

"Dancing!?" exclaimed Skipper. "What in the . . ."

"Exactly." said Samolus. "Dancing. Very unusual, don't you think? Most other pictures on this tapestry depict these two species fighting or something, but here they are clearly dancing. Now, notice that figure that stands apart from the rest?"

There, to the side, stood a rat in a habit and wide brimmed hat with a feather in it, and a lute in his paws, which he was clearly playing. Or at least it looked like a rat at first . . . but upon closer examination, it was clear that he was a mouse.

"What is this supposed to mean?" Zaran asked.

"It is the beginning of an interesting tale that took place after the death of Gonff the Mousethief, which was recorded in the journal of Gonff II." replied Samolus. "A story of how both vermin and woodlanders banded together to destroy an enemy of both, and how Redwall became an important part of their mission." And with that, Samolus sat down and continued his knitting, as he related to his listeners the tale of the Goodbeast Navy.

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**Right then, this is my first fanfiction, but it will certainly not be my last. So if you can't stand something about my writing, then don't expect the problem to go away on it's own. Tell me about it, and I'll see what I can do. If you have any questions about anything at all, just let me know and I'll try to answer them, that is if doing so would not make for spoilers. Good night! 7/6/2013  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you Hamlet of Redwall for reviewing.** **I was almost afraid there wouldn't be any reviewers. Gonflet was a nickname for Gonff II, so as to not confuse him with his father. After I upload this I am going back to check through the prologue to see if I can troubleshoot it.**

**Also, Thanks to the user with the name that I can't remember for following me (that sounds really weird when I repeat it to myself) and my story.**

**I now know what Traffic stats are for. Next chapter and every chapter after that I will give the number of viewers as apposed to reviewers. We'll see how high the differences get.**

**Blackish, thanks for reviewing, I hope this version of the chapter is better than the last one. If I still missed something, please do not hesitate to PM me or some such thing about it.**

**Thanks to the C person (another one of those names that slips my mind) for favoriting Goodbeast.**

**Finally, thank you OTORIventures for your review and favoriting this story.**

**Disclaimer: Forgot this in the last chapter. The names used in this fanfiction are from the Redwall books Martin the Warrior, Mossflower, The Legend of Luke, Outcast of Redwall, and Doomwyte. All other names are my idea unless otherwise stated at the beginning of the chapter. By names, I mean the nouns that the names are attached to. All songs, unless otherwise specified, are mine.  
**

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_**Book 1**_

_**Destination Changes**_

**1**

All was quiet on the Southern Sea, but that was normal for this time of night. Fading starlight illuminated its vast expanse. The water gently rippled with unseen disturbances taking place beneath the waves, and some above as well.

Four ships could be seen anchored in a diamond formation. The decks were quiet and there was no sign of life aboard. A passing seagull looked down from his lofty height and examined the assortment of vessels, and thought to himself that he had never before seen such a strange fleet in all the ports of Southward.

The first ship was a regular carrack, with three masts and a large hull. It was in its prime, with no trace of inexperienced captaincy. The mainmast had a crows nest, on which the seagull now perched to get his barring. From this point he had an exhalent view of the other three ships.

Looking back on them, the bird saw that the one to his left was a pleasant looking caravel, a charming but small ship with two masts that sported triangular sails, made mainly for shallow water sailing. On its foremast was hung a large banner, which depicted a cutlass and long sword crossed over a diamond shape.

Turning to his right, the seagull saw an old looking galley, with three masts much like those of the ship he was on. The difference was the mainmast adornment, for where the carrack had a crows nest, the galley had a long medal spike sticking strait up into the sky. But it was the hull of the ship that caught the seabird's attention. There were several little doors in the side, all in a row, and instead of oars resting in the water on either side of the ship, there were four large wheel-like structures, two on each side, as one might see on a market cart any day in Mechin.

Looking back on the last ship, the bird saw a vessel that was unlike any he had before seen. There were four masts, each with large square sails, and on the tip of the tallest mast was a large round platform. On the platform there was constructed something that could be described as a birds nest; except the seagull had never in all his life met a feathered creature that would require such a large nest as he saw here!

Lowering his gaze to its deck, he was surprised to see that there appeared to be no cabin; until he realized that the cabin was constructed underneath the deck! Or was the deck constructed on level with the cabin? The ship was so large that it was difficult to tell. In fact, it was easily the largest of the group.

It was as the seagull was making these observations a dark shadow arose from the bottom of the crows nest and quietly stood behind the bird. For a few moments, it stood there; and then spoke, causing the bird to start, and almost fall off its perch.

"Good morning, sir. Fine vessels, aren't they? Took us a full season and a half to finish the Recreation."

The seabird spun around, and gawked at the sudden appearance of the creature. He was dressed in a brown robe, with numerous articles hidden within the folds. The creature pulled back the hood hiding his face, reveling himself as a gray squirrel with small, circular spectacles of silver, through which the he looked at the bird with dirty blue eyes.

"I say again, good morning, sir." the squirrel continued. "Though, of course, you probably think it is night, as it is very dark yet, but in reality it is morning, and the suns rays will begin to show them selves in but a few minutes. Which, coincidentally, means that my shift as crow will be ending soon, so if I can help you with anything it will be sooner then later. Oh, before I forget to ask, is there anything I can help you with? Because I keep forgetting to ask creatures that before I begin helping them, and usually they don't need and or want my help, so I only annoy them, and now I'm talking to much, aren't I."

He said this all with out pausing for more than two seconds at a time, and the bird began to wonder if he was completely sane or not. But he seemed friendly enough, so after regaining his composure, the bird answered, "Good morning to you, too, sir. I am Crakenough, of the city of Mechin, the sixth largest port city of Southward, which is to the northeast of here. I was exercising my wings when I came upon your ships, and decided to stop for a rest. I hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all, sir Crakenough! I am Thomas, of the G.B., and we were just heading over to Mechin ourselves. Would you care to travel with us? We expect to be there by midday, and we do enjoy new company." responded the squirrel.

Crakenough thought it over, and then replied, "I am in no hurry, so I suppose I might stay until we reach Mechin. After all, I am rather curious as to this group of ships. I must say, I've never before seen anything like it!"

Thomas chuckled. "Nor will you again, sir." he said. "Least ways not unless you come upon us again. But you have only seen the surface. When dawn breaks, you will see just how unusual we are. Ah, here we go." he commented, for just then, a single ray of light broke over the horizon, giving everything a golden tint.

There was a sound from below, and Crakenough looked down to the deck to see a figure hurrying from a hatch toward the railing. Reaching it, the creature climbed up onto the shrouds and made its way up toward them, till it reached the crows nest and pulled itself on.

Crakenough now saw that the creature was a white furred mousemaid. She was slightly shorter than Thomas, but her brown eyes had a determined look that the squirrel's did not. She was wearing a dark gray dress and leather belt, strapped to which was a small war hammer, a telescope, and a flute. Slung across her back was a quiver of bow and arrows.

As soon as she was up, she leaned against the railing to catch her breath. "Good morning, Faith." Thomas greeted her.

"Good morning, Thomas." she panted, then, turning to Crakenough, continued "Good morning, sir. Who might you be?"

Crakenough gave a bow to her. "I am known as Crakenough," he told her, "and I come from the city of Mechin, the place you are going to, and for this reason I will travel with you till you reach it, as suggested by your friend, here."

The mousemaid smiled, and held out her paw to him. "I'm Faith, daughter of Heniss, and primary lookout for the G.B., with Thomas here being the secondary."

"Which basically means I stay up all night so that she can sleep." interjected Thomas. "Not that I mind, any, as it gives me an exhalent chance to chart the stars. I'm an astronomer as a side job, not to be confused with astrology, which is . . ."

"Oh, Thomas." Faith interrupted, "I think you better get on with your duties."

Thomas quickly scurried over to the shrouds and began to climb down. "Yes of course, sorry about that."

Faith chuckled as she turned to Crakenough. "You can get him started on almost any subject, but few can get him to stop. He means well, of course, but sometimes he can get sort of annoying."

"That's all right, no harm done." replied the bird cheerfully. Then, after a pause, he continued, "So, what is this, anyway? I mean, you and Thomas called it G.B., right?"

"That's right." answered Faith. "So, what does that stand for?" continued Crakenough.

"Oh, I think the others can explain that." she said mischievously. With that, she took the flute from her belt and began playing a quick, jovial tune.

This had a rather interesting effect. The cabin doors swung wide, the hatches were flung open, and creatures of all kinds began running about at their separate tasks. The oars protruding from either side of the ship picked up and began their rhythmic motion. Crakenough looked over at the other ships, and saw that they, too, were in motion and swarming with creatures.

Turning back to the ship he was on, he saw two beasts standing on either side of the ship's wheel. One was a rainforest rocket frog wearing brown trousers and a red shirt and holding a violin. The other was a rat, wearing a deep green habit and wide brimmed hat with a large, white feather, holding a lute in his paws. A large wildcat, with orange-red fur and wearing a black jerkin, kilt and tricorne, took the wheel.

Even as Crakenough watched, the two creatures with instruments began playing an accompaniment to Faith's tune, and the whole ship's crew burst into song:

_Welcome, matey, to the crew!_  
_There be lots for you to do!_

_Greetings from the three captains;_  
_Wullp, Rehoboth and Anah!_  
_Taking command underneath,_  
_Admiral Singer and First Mate!_

_Welcome, matey, to the crew!_  
_There be lots for you to do!_

_Greetings from Zerubbabel!_  
_Always encouraging those he can!_  
_Also known as our First Mate! _  
_Only one in the whole fleet!_

_Welcome, matey, to the crew!_  
_There be lots for you to do!_

_Greetings from dear Faith, the crow!_  
_Tell me what she doesn't know!_  
_Keeping watch by light o' day!_  
_Making sure we know the way!_

_Welcome, matey, to the crew!_  
_There be lots for you to do!_

_Greetings from the head bird, Derf!_  
_Feathered friend from Optinirph!_  
_What's his name spelled backward? NO!_  
_Don't tell him, he doesn't know!_

_Welcome, matey, to the crew!_  
_There be lots for you to do!_

_Greetings from the good Admiral!_  
_Smartest beast on the patrol!_  
_Might think he's a rat at first,_  
_But he's a mouse that's very large!_

_Welcome, matey, to the crew!_  
_There be lots for you to do!_

_Greetings from the other beasts!_  
_Names we don't have time to list!_  
_But valuable friends despite that!_  
_Take care you don't forget that!_

_Welcome, matey, to the crew!_  
_We've all been introduced to you!_  
_So jump aboard and ride along here!_  
_Courtesy of the Goodbeast Naavyyyyy!_

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**Good night!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Twenty-six views, to one review. Thanks again to Hamlet of Redwall, this time for reviewing chapter 2. I have a 'Beta-Reader', my brother, who reads through each chapter AFTER I post them, so each chapter is usually posted twice or more. Thank you for complementing the song! I actually have a tune for it that I can play on piano. As for Crakenough . . . first of all, I considered adding an accent, but couldn't decide what kind of accent. I have never read Rakkety Tam, so I'm not sure who your talking about, but if you think it would work, then send me a sample and I'll see what I can do. By the way, considering your comment on Doomwyte, you might want to check out Neither Seek Nor Shun the Fight.**

**For re-readers who see that the chapters are looking different, I have been editing them thanks to a review by Blackish, and thought I would add a bit more info while I was at it. Obviously, despite my alterations it's not perfect, but I'm learning.  
**

**Disclaimer: Go one chapter back and read the Author's Notes at the beginning.**

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**2**

The many creatures down below had not stopped working while they sang. The morning sun was now fully above the horizon, reflecting off the weapons and other metal objects, casting strange patterns across the deck.

Crakenough watched as the song ended, and the rat with the lute took the ship's wheel from the wildcat. Looking toward Faith, he asked, "So the G.B. is the Goodbeast Navy. No offence, but that doesn't really tell me anything."

Faith chuckled. "Actually, there is quite a bit of information I that song. But I'll leave the explanation to Admiral. If you wish to travel with us, then you should head down to him. He'll tell you where you need to be." With that, she put her flute away, took up her telescope, and turned toward the bow.

Crakenough turned back toward the deck. How am I supposed to find the admiral? he thought. Spreading his wings, he glided down to the portside railing, setting down beside a small hedgehog who was mopping the deck.

"Excuse me, please," requested the bird, "but would you be so kind as to tell me where to find the admiral?"

The hedgehog looked up from his work, and said cheerfully, "Names not please, tis Legrod, and as for Admiral, it depends on what you want 'im fir."

Crakenough had not expected this response, and it took a moment before he answered, "Well, I was hoping for a bit of information on this group of ships, and I was told tha . . ."

"Admiral's busy, you cin talk to Zerb. He's abaft here." Legrod interrupted, gesturing toward the stern.

The curious bird turned in the direction Legrod had indicated, and saw Thomas and the wildcat conversing with a mole who was wearing a green tunic and an overly large cape which dragged behind him. Taking wing over to them, he asked politely, "Excuse me, sirs, but I was told to speak with one called Zerb. Could you tell me where I might find him?"

To his surprise, the wildcat reached forth a massive paw, took hold of his leg, and shook it vigorously, saying "Well, that's me, and who might you be, kind sir?"

Releasing Crakenough's leg, the cat, Zerb, stepped back and waited for an answer. But the seabird was far to startled to say anything yet, and Thomas, seeing this, interjected. "This is Crakenough, of Mechin. He'll be traveling with us until we reach his city, and he is rather curious about the way we do things here. I suspect Faith told him to see you, or possibly Singer, and in asking for him he was directed to you, as is more likely considering . . ."

"Hurr, you'm best stoop afoare you'm tark moi ears off." the mole interrupted. Then, turning to the bird, he said, "Soary bout that, he'm carn be awful tarkitive once in 'ee whoile."

The squirrel chuckled in embarrassment, and apologized to the group. The mole introduced himself as Eshton. Then Zerb stepped forward and remarked, "If your interested in the fleet, then I think I can help you. But first things first, if I'm to show you around, then you can't call me Zerb; that's a nickname that's only used when I'm not around, to save time. My full title is First Mate Zerubbabel, but if you can't get your tongue around it then you can call me Opt. We'll start at the lower deck. You coming?"

This last statement was directed toward the other two creatures. They both declined, Eshton saying he had promised Ashy to help him in the kitchens, and Thomas saying he had to check on Wullp. So, after biding each other good mornings they split up to their tasks, Crakenough going with Zerubbabel to one of the many hatches holing the deck.

* * *

The lower deck had a round floor with a narrow walkway made from boards laid flat along the keel, with a row of benches on either side, and hammocks hanging from the ceiling, or floor, depending on how you look at things. The benches were occupied by all sorts of creatures, from mice to wildcats, voles to toads, with two or three of the same beast or reptile on each bench, so as to keep things even. Opt began to list the names of the rowers, but it wasn't long before Crakenough asked him to stop, as he could hardly remember now what the first name had been.

Next Opt showed Crakenough the main deck. He had seen most of it earlier from his high perch, but had failed to notice a rather peculiar piece of machinery standing at the bow. He asked Opt about it.

"This," Opt began, "is a crossbow. Thomas and Ashleg made it. In fact, each ship has one, and the Reformer has thirty-five. That's what those little doors in the side are for. They're just basic weaponry, really. Here, I'll show you how it works."

With that, he took hold of a small wheel attached to the machine, and began to turn it slowly. As he did so, the taught wire stretching across the crossbow began to pull back. When it reached the back of the machine, Opt inserted a short rod into the wheel to keep it from moving, and let go.

Opt then took up a long wooden javelin with a steel tip. This he placed on the crossbow. "Now," he explained, "when I pull this rod out of the wheel, this javelin will go flying at high speeds though the air in whatever direction the crossbow is pointing. I guess you could call them our siege engines."

Opt then brought his companion over to the forecastle, showing him the rooms used by the family's that worked on the ship, and the ones he and the other leaders of the ship slept in.

Finally, Opt showed Crakenough the cabin "This is the mapping room." he told him. The room was taken up by a large table, some chairs, and quite a few chests lining the walls. The top of the table had been carved into a 3D representation of the mainland, along with the land and sea surrounding its eastern and southern shores. Sitting on the map were four small models of ships, which Opt told him was to mark their position.

As Crakenough examined it, Opt told him a bit about its origins. "Thomas and Ashy put it together, so as we could figure out the shortest way to someplace easily. It's not finished yet, as you can see by the lack of detail on the western shore. But other than that, it's accurate, to scale, and adjustable." He said, pointing out a knife hanging on a peg on the back of the door, and motioned to some places where extra wood had been added to make it larger. Then, noticing a skeptical look on the bird's face, he added, "It's extremely helpful in our line of work."

Crakenough looked up. "Oh, I'm sure it is. But wouldn't it be easier if you simply bought a map from another merchant?"

Opt looked puzzled. "What do you mean, 'other merchant'?"

The bird returned the look. "Well, what other trade could bring together so . . ."

But the rest of his sentence was lost as Opt burst into laughter. "Merchants!" he bellowed. "Merchants! Why of all things! No, my dear friend, we are not. What merchant ever . . . well," and he stopped, a dark look clouding upon his features.

But before he could say anything more, a loud clanging came from outside and there came to their ears a huge, booming voice that shouted, "Breakfast time!" At that, Opt's face brightened up, and turning to Crakenough, he said, "If we want anything we better hurry." Even as he said this there came another voice that shouted, "Runner crew to Recreation!", and Opt bolted out the door, leaving the bird with more questions then when he had first arrived.

* * *

Admiral Rat Singer was a large, light brown furred mouse, with hazel eyes and a strong figure. The habit and hat he wore were tokens of friendship from some creatures he had met during his wanderings, before he founded the G.B.. Besides this, there were two twin kilijes slung across his back with leather shoulder straps, with his lute in a specially crafted satchel by his side. He also whore a snake skin belt, which he had made himself, the skin being given to him by Greta. Burned into the belt were the letters FV, though none but himself and Thomas knew what they meant.

Now he stood at the wheel, carefully guiding the Runner on its course to Mechin. There they intended to pick up some of Ashleg's supplies before heading back out to sea. Their quest was far from ended, and they would not stop till it was.

Suddenly a loud clanging sound was heard, accompanied by a huge, booming voice shouting "Breakfast time!"

"Reho." Singer chuckled to himself. "Well, better not to keep him waiting." and with that he shouted, "Runner crew to Recreation!" He then waited until he heard the splash of the anchor upon the water, and then jammed the wheel into place with a block of wood.

That done he trotted to the stern and waited. Soon, a stone with a rope tied to it swung up to him. Grabbing it before it swung back away from him, he looped it about his right arm and leapt over the railing.

First he fell. Then the rope went taught, and he swung out over the water to the caravel. He quickly undid the rope and swung it back toward the Runner. He then began making his way toward the stern of the Rider.

It wasn't long before he was on the large ship that Crakenough was unable to identify. Other beasts soon followed him, and it wasn't long before the whole of each crew was onboard, with the exception of Thomas, who took the crows nest from Faith.

* * *

Crakenough could hardly believe that so many creatures could all be on one boat, but Zerubbabel told him that there were others still below deck. Everyone slowly streamed into an open hatch, down some stairs, and into what looked to Crakenough like a dining hall. There were at least forty long tables, set in squares. Turning to Opt, he asked, "How many beasts are there exactly, that you need so many tables!" He found he needed to shout to be heard above the hubbub.

"Forty seven tables, to be exact!" Opt shouted back. "As for beasts, we don't bother to count, as we're always getting more! Don't suppose it will ever matter, though! Not all eat up here, and then there's the guests, so there's another seventy four tables another deck down!"

Crakenough was speechless. There were two hundred tables set out for a feast in Mechin, but the crews of four ships weren't that far behind. Who in the world are these creatures? he wondered.

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**Good afternoon!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Forty-two views, and absolutely no reviews. Hamlet of Redwall said he would not be able to review anything for a while, so he has an excuse.**

**As for this chapter, I am aware that some readers may think my writing a little rushed, there is a reason for it, though. Also, I am terrible with food lists, hence there is none here, though technically there should be one, as it is a meal time scene. Finally, sorry to those who read my consistent misspelling of Zerrubbabel's nickname. It has been fixed.  
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**For Follower W, sorry if you are getting a lot of alerts to updates on this story, and then only getting one new chapter. When I add a chapter, I also go back and adjust past chapters.  
**

**Disclaimer: Go back to ****1****.**

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**3**

The commotion was just as bad, if not worse, in the kitchen.

"We need more wine!"

"I put some on the window ledge!"

"Well, there's none now!

"But it was there a minute ago!"

"Hey! Who done bled in the sea?!"

"I think I know what happened to it!"

"So now what?!"

"I don't know; ask Legroar!"

"Beasts and there bleedin. 'Ot to be more careful."

"Tredge, did you'm get moi Deeper 'n Ever poi out of 'ee oaven?!"

"Pie?"

"Oh bardbeast, yas, poi!"

"What's tha smell?"

"Fire!"

"WHAT!"

"Get some water!"

There was a loud hissing sound as Eshton put out his 'poi', which had been left in the oven a bit to long. Needless to say, Tredge was sent from the kitchen. But that didn't solve all the problems (though it did solve half of them).

The kitchen helpers were different then yesterday, as was the way with things. The only constant help on hand was Eshton, Tredge the vole, an otter called Gotle, and the head cook, a pine marten called Ashleg.

Tredge only came back every day because kitchen duty was a punishment. For this reason he took to wearing an apron all the time, which replaced the belt that he used to wear to keep his leggings up.

Gotle wore a multi colored kilt and tunic, so as to hide the stains he gained from helping with the deserts and hotroot. A merry fellow, he always tried to make the best of things, though even he found his patience taxed this morning.

Ashleg was one of the few vermin of the navy that had not changed his name after joining. He was named so for his wooden leg, which greatly impeded his movement, hence he had taken up cooking, though he also was quite creative in his spare time. The Goodbeasts had found him in Mechin, and he had climbed aboard readily, as it was the only place he had ever been to where creatures didn't constantly remind him of his species. He was also a good friend of Thomas's, and together they had created quite a few useful, albeit unusual things for the fleet.

The grotesque looking marten also had good presence of mind, something that was required at this moment. "Right then, get tha' pie out of tha' oven Eshton, there's no time ta make another, so well 'ave to make do. You, you're not doing anathin at the moment, 'elp Gotle with the pastries. You there, take those greens and rinse them en tha water troth. Eshton, see if there's anathin still etable en tha center of tha' pie. Hey, weasel, get your paws out of tha' cupboard, ain't nothing en there but sugar. You can be better use o'er 'ere at the couner, with this knife and these leeks. Now don't bawl 'bout it, you'll be bawling enough by the time your through. Don't know why leeks ain't called by some kind o' onion name. Good work, Eshton, we can make a Lasmisoup with tha."

Things slowly got into order now that Tredge was gone, and soon Ashleg had them all in line with the dishes, ready to march into the dining hall and present them to the crews.

Slowly some of the noise died down as a few creatures found seats. Opt pointed Crakenough over to a row of boards and pegs sticking out of the wall, with birds of all kinds lining the pegs. Crakenough thanked him, and was about to wing over when Opt gestured for him to lean close. "Don't tell Derf anything about the song you heard earlier, understood?" he whispered.

Crakenough thought that this was a strange request, but he complied, and with that he flew over the many creatures assembled, perching on a vacant peg opposite an owl, robin and some bird he had never seen before. He said good morning.

The responses he got were unexpected.

"Shalom"

"Greetings to thee, dear sir."

"Hi." the creatures each said in turn. Then the robin continued "This to my immediate right is Jesher, and his salutation to thee which sounded so unusual was made to the sole purpose of giving you an example of his wealth of knowledge, as is his custom with most beasts he comes in contact with."

He then turned to the strange bird on his left, but before he could start a description, the bird interjected, "What he just said was that the owl's name is Jesher, that he was showing off to you, and that he does it quite often. I don't want him confusing you with an account of me, so I'll introduce myself." He punctuated this remark with a stern look to the robin, who in turn immediately quieted.

Crakenough studied the strange bird with interest. He was gray, with white markings around his black beak, and a black patch over the top of his head. His belly was yellow, and in seeing this Crakenough also noticed a leather strap hanging from the bird's shoulder.

"As I was saying," the bird continued, "My name is Derf, Head Bird of the G.B., and my talkative friend here is Kiriath-jearim, the most un-understandable creature in the fleet, in my opinion. Your new here, as I haven't seen you before. Welcome to the Goodbeast Navy. When did you arrive?"

This was hardly a question Crakenough was expecting, but then again that summed up almost everything he had seen so far today, so he answered, "A little before first light, sir. But why?"

Derf looked around, and then leaned forward eagerly, and whispered, "Did you happen to hear that song they play every morning?"

Crakenough quickly realized what was going on. "You didn't get up that early, did you?" he asked in a stern manner.

Derf started, then slumped on his perch. "Bother." was all he said, so Crakenough turned to the other two. "My name is Crakenough of Mechin," he said. "and I will be traveling with you until we reach there."

"You know," Jesher spoke up, "you can actually get there faster by flying . . ." "No doubt he could." interrupted Derf, "But he probably thought we were queer looking, and therefore decided to reside with us until his curiosity was satisfied. It's not like it's the first time it's happened. Now please, be quiet."

Crakenough couldn't help wonder if Derf was always this rude, and he began to wish he had chosen a different perch. In fact, he was considering going off to find one, when he heard Opt's voice shout, "Right, mates, what will it be today!"

Instantly everyone found seats, and when things had quieted down a bit, Faith took up her flute, the frog took up his violin, and a huge weasel waddled over to some upturned buckets of all sizes, and sat down.

He then commenced to beat upon them in rapid succession, while Faith and the frog began playing a fast tune in time to the thumping.

Opt stood up from his seat, and as the music reached the end of line, began the song:

_What'll it be, mates, what'll it be?_  
_What is it you'll have today?_  
_Hotroot soup, or cool mint tea?_  
_What'll it be, mates, what'll it be?_

With that, he sat down, and one by one the different crew members stood up and stated their meal desires in tune to the music, till every member had done so, finishing with the rat that Crakenough had seen playing the lute earlier.

When the song was finally over, everyone looked toward one side of the dining hall intently. Crakenough saw this, and looked over as well, and saw two large wooden doors with little holes at the top. Even as he watched, the doors opened.

Several creatures began to march forth in single file, each one carrying a dish for the meal. Crakenough had seen many foods in Mechin, but there was still one thing he could not identify. This dish looked like some sort of soup, except that there was barely anything in it that he would expect in regular soup.

Soon all the tables had been laden with various foods, and the creatures still carrying delicacies began to move down stairs. More creatures now emerged from the large doorway and began serving the food to the various creatures. A bird of Derf's species flew over with a small bowl, and placed it on their table before he flew off to get another one. Jesher, having the greatest height, leaned over and peered into the bowl. Straitening up, he remarked "It's yours, Kiri."

The robin thanked him, and then pulled the bowl closer and began to eat the acorns inside. It wasn't long before the serving bird came back, and soon all of them were eating. Derf had a bowl of hotroot soup, and Jesher was enjoying some special biscuits. Crakenough had ended up with some of the strange soup, and was still trying to figure out what it was when he heard Opt call him over.

* * *

**A rather short chapter, but that's because it was originally an extra large chapter, and so I thought I would split it. Please review, as I know I am doing something wrong, but can't figure out what.**

**Someone out there may be looking at the update date on the story heading and wonder why I'm taking so long. Well, in the next chapter Crakenough is supposed to ask some questions of the captains, and I'm having trouble deciding what questions he should ask. So if anyone has any ideas, it would really help if they please let me know. **

**Good morning! 7/18/2013  
**


	5. Chapter 4

**I did it! Finally! So, to update, thanks to the people who've reviewed, favored, and followed this story since I last updated. And thank to the people who have favored me and begun to follow me as well. Views for the previous chapter were fifteen, with one review, which I'll get to in a minute. Just to let everyone know, I was looking back, and suddenly realized I'd left out some important points in chapter 2, or three, depending on how you look at it. So I went back an updated it, just to warn you.****  
**

**Hamlet of Redwall: I actually did let you and everyone else know in the author's notes at the end of the previous chapter, but I can understand your impatience, so, here you go!  
**

**I will go and look up your denomination as soon as I have time. But as for my denomination, I don't really have one. I've been to a baptist church, a grace brethren church, an evangelical free church, and a few others. Currently I'm going to a church called Life in Christ Fellowship. I respect the pastor, as he is a man who looks into things to the utmost. But my beliefs come from the Bible, and my translation is not fixed. If I can ever learn to read Greek and Hebrew, then those will be the languages I use, though considering how I do in language arts, I doubt that will be any time soon.**

**So, then, on to the story! Warning: this chapter is where the T rating comes into play. If you think I should lower it, please let me know, as I haven't been able to decide.  
**

* * *

**4**

"Well, looks like they've got a good meal cooked up for this morning." remarked Wullp, the captain of the _Reformer_. He was a small rat wearing a blue jerkin that hung down to his knees, tightened at the waist with a leather belt, from which hung his broken tipped short sword. He was a rather discouraging creature, which had earned him his nickname of Insulter, or Ins, for short, though he who wished to stay on his good side would not dare to use it. That, and the fact that he had missed supper the night before, made his comment surprising to those around him.

"Indeed. Is dat Lasmisoup oer dar?" replied Rehoboth. He occupied the position of captain of the _Rider_, as well as being the self proclaimed expert of beating upon upturned buckets and barrels to make a rhythm, or 'The Drummer' as Thomas would say. The weasel was a rather gluttonous creature, contributing to his large bulk daily, and sometimes hourly. All these facts, combined with his deep, carrying voice, contrived for him the nickname Boomer. He wore a large, purple robe, as it was the only thing that had been found as of yet to fit him. His weapon of choice was the battle-axe.

"Yes, I believe it is. I wonder what Tredge ruined this time." answered Anah, the captain of the _Recreation_. The dormouse sported a tunic and leggings of the colors brown and gray, with a headband of black, though that was only today's color. His honesty and friendly disposition had earned him his rank, as most activity aboard the large ship was taking care of visitors. For this reason he chose not to carry a weapon. "Opt, didn't I see you with a new face earlier? A seagull, I think."

The large wildcat nodded in response. Though easily one of the strongest creatures in the navy, he was more known for his encouraging nature, the reason for his nickname, Optimist. His strength allowed him to wield his over sized scimitar with ease. "His name is Crakenough, and he will be traveling with us till we get to Mechin, as it is his home town. He is also curious of our group."

Anah chuckled. "Ha ha, what's new? Here, why don't you call him over. We might as well get this over with."

"Very well, then." replied Opt, and with that he turned toward the bird's tables and, seeing Crakenough examining a bowl of Lasmisoup, called him over.

When the sea bird reached them, Opt introduced him to the captains, as well as Admiral Singer, who was sitting at the table. The bird was greatly astonished to discover that the 'rat', was a large mouse, a reaction which was explained to him as normal.

"I hear you are curious of our organization, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask them here." explained Anah. At these words, almost every creature quieted down and looked expectantly toward the table, though just enough kept talking to keep Crakenough from noticing. It was not the first time someone had had questions about the G.B., and the crew took interest whenever such a thing took place.

But despite the repetitiveness of the occasion, the first question was certainly a first. "Very well then. What was I eating back there?"

While much of the crew was dumbfounded, a few were having trouble suppressing their laughter, the captains included.

Finally, Anah was able to speak. "That," he explained, "is what we call Lasmisoup. It's short for Last Minute Soup, as it is made with spare odds and ends lying around just before meal time."

The bird nodded. "I see. Well then, I've noticed that there is quite a selection of creatures on board. Are there any species that you don't have?"

This question was more common. "Yes, there are a few we couldn't get, such as wolves, hamsters, ermine, and rabbits, to name a few."

"And then there's some creatures that we've never heard of." Wullp interjected. "Thomas insists we don't have any wearats."

"What's a wearat?"

"I just told you I didn't know; ask Thomas."

After a moments pause, he continued, "Is that all? Usually we're kept from work for the rest of the mornin' answerin' stupid questions. So far you've asked one usual, and one for the list. Ya got anythin' else?"

"Yes, I do." Crakenough replied evenly. "Having already made the point that your crew is large and with great variety, I now ask, _why_? Never in my life have I even heard of such an alliance with so many different species, and the only thing that made sense I have been told is not the case. So, what could possibly be your objective?"

Silence reigned in the hall. Every creature stopped what they were doing, and stared darkly at the food in front of them. The captains and first mate all turned to the admiral, who, up till now, had been silent. Now, leaning forward in his chair, he stared over at Crakenough, with a look that portrayed both anger, and sadness. He spoke one word.

"Leek."

* * *

Many know of the corsairs of the Western Sea, and their endless war with the Long Patrol of Salamandastron. The Fire Mountain is the foremost stronghold against the vermin of the seas. But not all of these murderess scavengers feel the need to draw the attention of the Badger Lords. For across the mainland, on the Eastern Sea, while almost devoid of the usual dangers of its sister, there are still some.

A merchant ship by the name of the _Grotil_ had been sailing for the far off shores of Optinirph, when a corsair fleet had overtaken it. Now seven clippers surrounded the carrack, and a caravel was along side. These were the Mosquito corsair ships, and their flagship the _Traitor_.

The captain of the _Grotil_, a hare called Hiltare, was currently being escorted to the cabin of his ship by a rat. Reaching the door, said rat cast Hiltare into the room without further ceremony.

After picking himself up off of the floor, Hiltare looked about the room for any signs of life. Just an hour before he and his crew had been celebrating having passed the halfway point in between continents. Now, the whole ship seemed almost deserted.

As this thought crossed his mind, he suddenly noticed a mouse reclining in a nearby chair. The mouse was dressed in green, with a bright red cape cast about his shoulders. On his head was a medal helmet, and the weapons he wore were a collection of throwing knives and an iron, double bladed scimitar.

"Well, me lad," greeted Hiltare, "we do seem to be in a spot of trouble. Where'd they pick you up, ay?"

The mouse seemed almost indifferent to the hare captain. He turned his head slightly toward Hiltare and replied lazily, "They got me at coinage."

"Coy Naige, ay? Can't say I've ever heard of it, but I don't suppose it's to far away, if they haven't strapped ya to the oars yet, ay, wot?"

"You could say that." the mouse replied, still with the same slow speech.

Silence.

Feeling somewhat nervous for some reason, the hare tried starting a conversation again. "So, then, my name's Hiltare, captain of this bally R to P trade ship. What's yours?"

"R to P?" the mouse replied. "What on earth does that mean?"

Though it wasn't the answer he was looking for, the hare captain was glad of something to talk about. "Why, it's the code name for the Redwall to Peckrand supply group. It's our job to deliver the goods from Redwall Abbey over to Optinirph."

The mouse suddenly seemed interested. He sat up and leaned forward in his seat, though he still spoke in a level tone. "Really. Have you ever been to Optinirph?"

"I'm bally sorry to say that I haven't. This is my first time on this hear route, you see, though I've had experience in shippin' out to Laco and Kkarcia."

"I take it you're from Redwall, then."

"That I am, and jolly well proud of it! Us creatures of the abbey are quite handy in many different jobs."

"Sounds interesting. I'm guessing Redwall is on the shores somewhere?"

"Not at all, me good fellow! You mean to say you've never heard of it? I never! I'd think anyone within a hundred miles of Mossflower would know about it now!"

"Mossflower?"

"Yes, of course, Mossflower Wood! Beautiful place, this time of year! Hope I'll get to see it again, though don't suppose we'll find out till someone comes to tell us what we're hear for. What do you think they want?"

The mouse leaned back again in his chair, seemingly board by the direction the conversation was taking. "They're looking for information."

"Well, they'll certainly get none from me, wot! They can send their captain if they want, and I won't spill a thing, even if it's common knowledge! In fact, I hope he does come. I'd like to tell the villain what I think of him!"

"Really. What might that be?"

"Why, I'd tell him how I think he should be hanged for murderin' half my crew! I'd tell him how he ought not to try to rob honest merchants whose work saves lives in Peckrand!" He turned toward the door, arms crossed. "I'll just wait for him to come along to hear it. And he better think about it for a while!"

The mouse spoke from behind him. "Oh, I did the first time it was told me. But after a while, it got rather repetitive."

Hiltare froze. The mouse continued, "I don't suppose I mind hearing it again, though. At least I now know where this famous Redwall is."

Hiltare spun round, just in time to see a knife flying toward his face. It hit him squarely between the eyes, and his lifeless body fell to the floor.

The mouse stood up, and walked over to the body. "But now that I do know, I don't need you anymore." He reached down and removed the knife, then called for the guard.

"Yes, General?" the guard asked, entering the room.

"Tell all troupes evacuate the ship with anything of use, and burn it. And have my captains sent to my cabin."

"As you wish, General." the rat replied, and quickly scurried from the cabin.

Once he was gone, the mouse leaned down and took a pouch from the dead beast's belt, and shook it. Hearing it clink, he strapped it to his own belt.

With that, General Leek, admiral of the Mosquito Corsair Fleet, left the cabin.

* * *

**Well, then, if you have anything to say, then go ahead, and I'll make sure to answer in the next chapter's author's notes. Thanks for reading!**

**Good evening! 9/22/2013**


	6. Chapter 5

**Thirteen views. And I'm not sure whether I can call Hamlet's review a review, though it was greatly appreciated. I'll see what I can do, Hamlet, but I can't promise anything.  
**

**Anyway, this is the next chapter, and while it's shorter than most it is necessary. Enjoy!**

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**5**

Exiting the cabin, Leek made his way through the throng of evacuating vermin, heading toward the gangplank. Reaching it, he quickly trotted down to the main deck of the _Traitor_, heading in the direction of his own cabin.

Inside he had placed a large, extravagant bed, complete with curtains, a bulky chest in one corner, a rack for the hanging of his attire before bed, and a round table with chairs situated in the middle of the room. He walked over to the chest and unlocked it with a key hung round his neck. Opening it a crack, he tossed in the pouch that he had relieved from the hare captain, and shut and locked it again.

Turning, he stepped over to the chairs and sat down. Upon the table there was a beaker of seaweed grog, a few drinking bowls, and some cold roasted meat. The makeshift table cloth was a collection of maps, which allowed the general to chart his fleets course over lunch.

Leek leaned back to wait for his captains to arrive, allowing his mind to wander to other things that had led to this event.

_Three seasons earlier . . ._

* * *

_Leek watched from the shore boat of the _Traitor_ as the galley burnt itself to the surface. He waited until the last flame had been extinguished, and then turned to the stoat that held the oars. _

_The creature responded by rowing the boat out among the wreckage, a few other boats following suit. They were to look for anything useful, whether it were riches or slaves. Anything found was to be brought to one of the captains, and later to Leek, to be looked over. If it was deemed worth anything, then it was either stored in the chest or chained to the oars. If it was not . . ._

"_General! Tha's a beast clingin' to tha' bit o' wreckage. Should I fish 'im out, or run 'im through?"_

Leek turned his head in the direction the stoat was pointing. A sea otter was indeed holding on for dear life to what was left of a table. From what could be seen of him from above water, he was rather finely dressed, and the badge on his sleeve denoted him as the second mate.

Correction,_ Leek thought to himself, _ex-second mate_. Out loud he said, "Yes, fish him out. He'll be a strong one, might even replace Number 7. Plus, he may be able to give us some information on the next trade ships that are coming."_

"_Righ', then, General." the stoat replied, and proceeded to gather the net from the bottom of the boat. Throwing it over the otter, he began to pull the creature in._

_Instantly, the beast sprang to life, struggling against the unexpected snare. Leek quickly moved to help the stoat keep a hold of the strong creature. Pulling it aboard, they tied his paws together, and removed the net._

_The otter immediately tried to roll out of the boat, but was halted by the thwack of an oar. He lay there, glaring up at his captures with hatred etched upon his face._

_Leek chuckled. "Well, well," said he, "quite a fighter, aren't you, sir? Nice to see a bit of umph in a beast."_

"_Scoundrels!" the otter yelled. "Thieves, murderers! _Vermin_! Just wait, you'll be sorry you dared to attack an honest vessel! You'll wish you had left us alone, corsairs! You wait, you'll have all of Redwall's warriors on your tail!"_

_Leek just smirked at the angered creature. "I would think you would have a lot more to worry about then what will be happening to me. And I could care less about having another group of warriors after me; it's not like the others have caused us much trouble yet."_

"_Don't be so quick to judge, traitor." the otter seethed. "The creatures of Redwall may be peaceful, going so far as to allow any to enter their walls in peace, even vermin. But play them foul, and you'll find yourself wishing you had never been born!"_

_Though Leek had been trying to ignore the otter, this latest piece of information almost alarmed him. Turning to the angered creature, he asked casually, "Really, you expect me to believe that? Where in the world could such a place as you describe be located?"_

_Instead of answering, the otter smirked at him; there was a snap, and the captured beast sprang upon him, nearly casting him from the boat._

_Leek quickly did a backwards somersault, rolling clear of his attacker. He drew one of his knives, intending to slash the creatures eyes out, so as to disable it without killing it._

_The otter leaped up, and charged at the mouse. But before he reached him, a cutlass blade protruded from the center of his tunic, and he fell dead on the bottom of the boat._

_For a moment, Leek stared down at his fallen adversary. Then he looked up at the stoat, who was still holding his blade. Anger surged through the general, and he shouted, "You fool! What did you do that for?"_

_The stoat looked confused. He had expected a congratulations. "He was try'n ta kill ya, sire. So I stabbed 'im through the mi'le."_

"_That beast had valuable information!" the pirate mouse roared. "Don't you realize the implications of such a place as he described existing! We have enough trouble with the OPG and G.B. on our tails!"_

_The stoat began to rattle off excuses, but Leek cut him off. "Just get me back to the ship. I must discuss this with the captains."_

* * *

_The minute he was back on board, Leek ordered his captains sent to his cabin, and made hast to be there when they arrived. _

_When they had entered the room, he gestured them to sit down, doing so himself. As usual, his request was met with different results._

_Izar the river otter immediately sat down. He was the most loyal of all Leek's crew, and was an expert with the spear. He was also the only other woodlander, which made him somehow inferior to the stupid vermin that populated the fleet. He wore much the same clothes as his superior, though it contrasted with his bright blue eyes._

_Mordecai was strong built, dark brown rat. He never sat down. When once asked why, he had replied that to sit down was to be unprepared. No one ever saw him sleep, so it was believed he never lay down, either. Though younger than most of the crew, he was a tall as Izar, and his mind was sharp. He wore a long, black robe, which covered anything else he might have had on him._

_Leek quickly re-accounted what he had learned. "If what he said was true, then we must destroy it. We can't afford to risk anymore hindrances. From now on, I want every cabin that is looted searched for maps, every navigator that is imprisoned questioned, every captain we come across tortured. We must find this abbey's location before they decide to turn their forces against us."_

* * *

Now, five seasons later, he sat in the same chair with the information he had so long been seeking. And now that he did, he didn't plan on wasting one second in carrying out his intentions.

The door opened, and his two captains entered. "You sent for us, sire?" inquired Izar.

Leek nodded. "Sit down. I have just returned from talking with the _hare_ captain of the _Grotil_."

"Hm. Sounds like a rather one-sided conversation." Mordecai commented.

"Indeed." replied Leek. "But I didn't mind much. He happened to be from Redwall."

Izar leaned forward. "Does that mean what I think it does?" he asked eagerly.

Leek nodded. "He tells me our location is Mossflower Wood."

Izar started. "But that's wildcat territory! He must have been mistaken."

"You apparently aren't up on the latest news." Mordecai replied. "A warrior mouse from the north took up with some of the woodlanders of the area and started a rebellion. After about two seasons, they demolished the castle of Kotir, and he killed the wildcat." He paused, considering the matter at hand. "And if what this hare said was true, then it would seem that the victorious woodlanders built this Redwall."

"Then it is settled." Leek said. "We will head to Scale Isle to pick up supplies, and then toward Mossflower, and crush this threat of the Redwall warriors once and for all!"

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**Hope you liked it, and if not, please let me know why, so that I may become a better author. **

**Good night! 10/2/2013**


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